Ten Missing Memories
by Iamepical
Summary: The moments that could have been between Danielle and Ronnie if the writer's hadn't killed her off.
1. Only Now

**Hello. I am continuing with my other fic', but I felt like writing these. Basically, they are just the moments that should have happened between Danielle and Ronnie. Because we all know that she shouldn't have died (: I will try and limit them to one thousand words each, but I'm not promising anything because I have the tendency to over describe thing recently. Depends how it goes. There will be 10 of them. That's it really. Oh, and enjoy them of course (: Constructive criticism is much appreciated! This one is where Danielle gets run over, only in mine she doesn't get run over obviously ;)**

Desperate.

Frantic.

Hysterical.

She runs through the darkness; finds her way through the oppressive black that casts demonic shadows across the street without knowing where it will take, not caring as long as she finds Danielle. Everything else has been driven from her mind. Nothing else matters apart from finding her little girl and telling her that she knows the truth. She has already lost her baby twice, and she refuses to loose her again. For twenty years she has grieved for the child that that was ripped from her arms at birth, believing that they would only be reunited in death.

And it is all for nothing. Mother and child have been driven apart by viscous lies from the man that has made Ronnie the guarded, cold individual she is today. In one respect she thanks God that Danielle was adopted and was cared for by a good, honest family and raised into the polite and gentle young women she is today. She has at least been saved from Archie's cruel grasp. The last few months must have hurt her, tainted her soul all because she believes that her own mother knew and didn't want her. She wonders what other lies Archie has etched on her mind. But at least Danielle can be saved; at least this mess can be fixed. Ronnie's heart was shattered twenty years ago and now there are simply too many pieces missing to fix it.

Danielle has been living mere miles from her and she has never known. She even visited Telford once with Roxie on a night out, but she never knew. When Ronnie was younger she has always imagined that if she saw Amy again she would know. She would know that she was her daughter if she was only three or if she was thirty. But she hadn't known, even when Danielle has reached out to her so many times. Ronnie has pushed her away just like she does with everyone else. She truly is the 'Ice Queen' and she suddenly feels a wave of self- loathing for the bitter woman she has become.

It astounds her that a single moment in time has shaped her entire life forever.

How could Danielle ever forgive for all the brutal things she has said? Kind, sweet, gentle Danielle. Her baby. Her daughter. She told her own child that she would never want a freak like her as a daughter.

Ronnie won't blame her if Danielle runs and never looks back. She won't blame her if she decides that Ronnie isn't worthy of being a mother to her. In all honesty, Ronnie can say that if she were in Danielle's position she would never forgive herself for all the things she has said.

But she has to try.

As sure as hell burns, she has to try.

She has prayed every day of her life that somehow Danielle will come back to her; she has spent everyday thinking that she would give up everything just to spend one more moment with her daughter. And now her prayers are answered Ronnie will not give up. She will not let the man's lies who was supposed to protect her destroy the one chance she has to make everything right again.

Ronnie knows that she will die before giving up on a chance to know the daughter she has longed for her entire life.

"Danielle," she sobs, her words echoing eerily in the night. The orange glow of the streetlight lights are the only thing left to guide her, their lights blinking like the eyes of bats. The tread of her feet is light against the ground as she runs, both hers and Danielle's locket thud in rhythm with her heart beat. If only she had listened if the Queen Vic, if only she'd have recognised that Danielle was telling the truth and hadn't been so wrapped up in her own stupid misery to notice that her little was girl was standing just metres from her. Maybe then Danielle would be in her arms now, exactly where she should always have been.

In the distance she hears a faint cry accompanied by light footsteps and what is left of her heart breaks. Wasn't a mother supposed to protect, nurture and lover her child? All Ronnie has ever done for Danielle is bind her in chains of despair and resentment. What kind of mother is she? She wonders what kind of mother she will make if Danielle lets her. She doesn't know the first thing about how to deal with young girls, doesn't even have a clue how to cook a decent meal. But she loves Danielle more that life itself and somehow that will have to be enough.

"Danielle! Please stop. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for everything," she pleads, her voice breaking on the last word with hope, sorrow and fear.

Silence.

She can no longer hear the footsteps and all that remains is the thudding of her own heartbeat pounding wilding in her chest.

Danielle has stopped.

It's isn't much, but it is something; it is more that she could ever dare to hope for.

"I'm sorry," she repeats again. "All those things…I- I didn't…You have to…I love you. You're my little girl and I though you were dead but I never for a moment stopped loving you. You're perfect, how could I not want you?" silent tears pour down her face, little diamonds that represent all the lost moments, all the regrets and all the love that should have been there for twenty years between mother and daughter. "I always wanted you. When you were taken from me I spent every minute thinking of you, wondering what you looked like and if you were like me or Roxie and if you had a wide smile and blonde hair too," she gives a shaky laugh. "I can see now that you aren't like me at all, at least not in personality. It's lucky really, why would anyone want to be like me? You're sweet and gentle and you're perfect,"

Her voice catches in her throat then and she is unable to go on. No body has ever glimpsed this much of her, completely vulnerable and exposed. All the lost words that have remained unspoken but that have lingered like an apparition inside her heart come pouring out. She prays Danielle understands, that she will try and forgive her. She waits, unconsciously reaching out a hand into the darkness and grasping at what should always have been there.

Neither of them move.

The wind breathes between them, howling a mournful lament and tousling at Ronnie's hair.

Slowly, Danielle steps out of the shadows and into the golden glow of the streetlight. She reaches out her hand too, uncertain and afraid.

Then she steps forward and the moment is broken; the simple movement sets the world in motion again.

Her eyes are wide with fear of rejection, but there is something else there too: hope. It is the most beautiful sight Ronnie has ever seen.

"Baby," she murmurs.

Danielle breaks into a run then, a small but scared smile tugging at her lips which Ronnie has only just noticed are precisely the same shape as hers. Ronnie runs too and they embrace, both women clinging to each other as if their lives depend on it. Everything feels complete and Ronnie knows that she will never be as happy again as she is now. Her daughter is in her arms, close to her heart where she should always have been.

Danielle bursts into a fit of desperate tears, inconsolable as she sobs into her mother's chest. She knows that no words are needed, that enough has already been said tonight. They could talk eventually; they will have years and years to talk. Instead Ronnie makes gentle hushing noises and runs her hand through her baby's blonde cropped hair, tender, maternal.

"Mum," she whispers. "I've found you," her hand twist in Ronnie's blouse and she finds herself remembering the way baby Amy had done the same thing the night she was born. Ronnie feels her heart burst with joy at the moment she has dreamed of since she was fourteen years old. Everything has suddenly fallen into place. Life seems to have taken on a new meaning and even the cold grey street has taken on a new beauty.

She knows that their future will be difficult, that she will have to work hard to gain her daughter's trust and that there will be arguments, resentment and even hate. With a pang she thinks of all the lost moments she will have to work hard to catch up with. But right now none of this seems to matter as they cry together; there is only now.

Mother and daughter are reunited at last.

**Meh, I went 400 words over limit. Never mind. I'm not sure if I'm pleased with this or not, but lemme know what you thought.**


	2. A fresh Start

**I guess this is linked to the first one, but not all of them will follow on from each other so sorry if it confuses you all :P OMG. I've finally watched Avatar and it is like on of the most amazing films /ever/! I want to be blue lol. Anyhow, enjoy and if you review I will give you a big virtual hug :D**

11.45

She brushes her hair for the umpteenth time and straightens her clothes, still unsure of whether she should change from her floral top and into her black one after swapping outfits six times already. What if she looks like she is trying too hard? The last thing she wants to do is intimidate Danielle, but she doesn't want to pull on her tracksuit as she normally would and appear that she is making no effort at all. She laughs then, thinking how ridiculous it is that she fretting over what outfit to wear when she is meeting Danielle, but this time not as a stranger; as her mother.

All the same, the feeling elates her. It feels amazing that for once she is worrying about something as simple as what attire to wear in front of her daughter. She grins to herself indulgently, picturing their future together as she wonders if Danielle likes similar clothes to herself. Only yesterday she had believed her little girl dead, but now she is planning all the things that they will do together from shopping to Ronnie yelling at her to clean her room, and all the things they will talk about.

And it is the best feeling in the world.

11.50

Ronnie begins to stalk the length of her kitchen, stopping abruptly to stare anxiously out of the window.

Pace, stop, stare. Pace, stop, stare.

She continues in the repetitive sequence as she wonders if Danielle feels as nervous as she does; if she too keeps staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ronnie through her window only to find that Ronnie is mirroring her movement.

Pulling back her curtains, she can just about see the Slater's house, unassuming, unimportant and even slightly grimy. Almost as if someone started cleaning the windows but abandoned the job half way through. With the ghost of a smile, she figures that someone was probably Big Mo.

The curtains at the Slater's House are still closed. There is not a glimpse of movement, not any sign that anyone lives there at all. They are probably still asleep. Her suspicions are confirmed when she looks down to see that amid the midday bustle of Albert Square Stacy's stall has been left abandoned, the wooden frame stood looking oddly lonely against the comparatively bursting stalls beside it. She wonders then if Danielle likes to sleep in or if she is an early riser like herself, always up at the crack of dawn as soon as the first crack of sunlight prises its way behind her eyes.

Making a mental note to ask her, she resumes her unrelenting routine across the kitchen.

Pace, stop, stare. Pace, stop, stare.

It is 11.55 now.

She considers phoning Roxie to tell her, to tell her that Danielle was telling the truth and that she has her little girl back, but she immediately disregards the idea, doubting that she will be able to talk any sense at all when her mind is so full of such a dizzying happiness. But she will phone Roxie later. Now she has Danielle back in her life, she can be an Auntie to Amy again and she can stop resenting her existence. Even forgiving Roxie suddenly seems easy. Today isn't just a fresh start for her and Danielle, but it is a fresh start on her life. She is determined not to let Archie do any more damage to her family.

She is going to change. For Amy, for Roxie, for Danielle. For herself.

She has spent twenty years in a trance, alive but not really living. How she has back the missing part of her life she can finally start seeing the world again. And right now it has never seemed a more incredible place with the golden sun and twittering birds zooming through an azure sky.

12.00.

Once again, her gaze returns to the window, eyes automatically searching the crowd for a small figure with fair hair bobbing across the square and making its way to Ronnie's flat.

12.01

Only a minute has passed, but for all Ronnie knows it might have been a lifetime. There is still no sign of her. Restless, excited, joyful, she abandons her position at the window and goes to wait by the door.

12.02.

She starts to straighten the cushions, convinced that they somehow look out of place even though she spent a good half-hour re-arranging them when she woke up. Forcing herself to stop her fussing, she heads back to the door.

12.03.

For lack of anything else to do, she ties her hair up and deliberately draws out the way in which she wraps the elastic band around her hair, as if it will somehow make Danielle's arrival quicker.

12.04

Again, she returns to the sofa, realising what is wrong. Everything looks too neat, too meticulous and too perfect. She picks up a cushion and throws it unceremoniously on the floor, bending down to pick it back up when she decides that it probably doesn't matter and Danielle won't care where her cushions are positioned.

12.05.

Ronnie feels her happiness begin to ebb away. Danielle was supposed to be here five minutes ago. What if she'd changed her mind and gone back to Telford? What if she'd decided that after everything she felt too much resentment towards Ronnie and couldn't build a relationship with her? What if she never sees her again?

Frightened tears spring to her eyes as all her hopes come tumbling down like an avalanche. She brushes them away furiously, knowing that she is being stupid. It's only been five minutes. The clock at the Slater's could be slightly different to hers, or maybe Danielle was talking to one of Walford's nosy residents. There could be a number of plausible reasons Danielle is late.

But all the same, she can't quell the feeling that Danielle doesn't want her, that she is rejected. The thought clamps like an iron fist around her heart. Last night every motherly instinct within her had told her not to leave Danielle's side, to hold onto her and never let go again, but she knew that the best thing for both of them was space; space for Danielle to wrap her head around the fact that Ronnie wanted her and space for Ronnie to become accustomed to the fact that her daughter really is alive.

Now she wonders if she made it all up, if it was some cruel dream the devil had seduced her with, taunting her and silently laughing from below while she paced her flat for a girl that didn't exist.

12.06.

The doorbell rings, irritatingly shrill but a glorious sounds at the same time.

Her hands trembling, taut and white she answers the bell and waits for the voice at the other end.

"It's me- Danielle. Um…please can I come up?"

She fumbles with her words, momentarily forgetting how to speak as the sound of her baby's voice renders her breathless.

It was real. Danielle is real. She sounds as nervous as Ronnie, her voice afraid when it should be light and loving, but it doesn't matter. She is here, she hasn't left.

"Of course, hold on," she pressed the button and waits to hear Danielle's footsteps on the stairs.

The door creaks open then and Danielle appears in its frame, her hands wrapped around her middle as if she is afraid and needs a barrier. With a pang, Ronnie realises how she does the same thing whenever she is nervous. An awkward silence forms a wall between them and Ronnie experiences a sinking feeling in the fit of her stomach, knowing it will be a long time before they go shopping together or do anything a normal mother and daughter would; it will be a long time before Danielle trusts her.

"Please come in," her voice sounds formal, polite. Not how it should sound. It shouldn't be like this, shouldn't be so hard to know how to react around Danielle. There should only be ease and love between them, but instead it is just awkward.

Like it is with strangers.

Ronnie knows now that she was stupid to expect everything to be perfect straight away. She has twenty years to catch up on and even then their relationship won't be anything close to perfect. There will always be that uncertainty, that resentment and an unwillingness to forgive.

But her heart still explodes with joy as she greedily drinks in every perfect feature of her daughter, from her overlarge coat to her porcelain skin to her small hands and the soft curve of her lips. She wants to reach out and touch her face, to feel the smoothness of her baby's skin against her and to establish the bond that should already have been there. She doesn't though, knowing that it would be too much too soon.

Danielle seems to notice her staring, and she looks hurriedly away, fixing her eyes determinedly on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Ronnie says, not really sure what she is apologising for. Not being there for twenty years of her daughter's life, or for making her feel uncomfortable.

She smiles nervously.

"Sorry I'm late. Jean made me eat something before I left…" her voice trails off.

"Would you like anything? A drink or something else to eat? You can help yourself," she tells her, trying desperately to make her voice sound welcoming to ease some of the tension.

"No thank you," she moves forward, stopping abruptly as if she has been slapped.

Ronnie feel how Danielle looks, knowing that she is staring at the stop where she had told Danielle to abort her own grandchild.

"Danielle…" she can't help herself any longer, the powerful urge too strong to resist. Stepping forward, she wraps Danielle in her arms. She can feel her muscles tense at the sudden contact, but then she relaxes, pressing her face into Ronnie's chest. Ronnie's heart swells with a tumultuous range of emotions: joy, fear, guilt, regret.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, inhaling the faint strawberry scent of her hair, recalling how she had done the same thing the night Danielle was born. "If I'd have known I would never…I would never have," she stops, aware that Danielle isn't returning the intense hug.

"Don't. Just don't. I'm not ready to hear whatever it is you have to say yet. Maybe I never will be. And when I am I don't know if I can forgive you," her voice is cold and bitter and Ronnie is reminded startlingly of herself in that instance.

Ronnie feels as if someone has taken a knife to her and has painstakingly carved her skin so she feels pain but so the damage isn't life threatening. She turns away, turns away so Danielle won't see her eyes swimming with tears and so she doesn't see her heart-breaking.

What if their relationship is just too broken to ever fix?

She feels Danielle's hand grasp hers from behind and she clutches it as if her life depends on.

"But I can forget," she says firmly. "Or at least I want to forget. You're my Mum and I've spent my whole life imagining this moment. I just want to know my Mum,"

Perhaps their relationship is broken beyond repair, perhaps they will never have the true ease that should exist between a mother and child but right now it doesn't seem to matter. Danielle is willing to forget even if she can't forgive and it is enough for Ronnie.

"I'd like that. Because all I want is to know my daughter too," she gives Danielle's hand a firm squeeze before letting go. She invites her to sit down then and they begin to talk about anything and everything, including topics as trivial as the weather. The subject doesn't really matter to Ronnie though, she is too enraptured with Danielle's soft manner of speaking to care what she is talking about.

12.16

Only ten minutes have passed since she last looked at the clock. Her little Amy is back in her life and sat talking on her sofa as Ronnie listens in silent awe.

Only ten minutes have passed and her life has changed forever; has changed for the better.

**Ronnie lol, bless her eh? Acting all nervous. Oh God though, this one is horrific. Feel free to flame me 0.o **


	3. All the Small Things

**Took me ages to get this to standard that was even worth posting, but I still don't like it very much, but at least it is better than the last one. But then I never like anything I write lol. I apologise for the crappy titles I keep coming up with. If anyone has any better suggestions then please tell me because I fail at titles! I suppose this one would be set a few weeks after the last one. Oh and btw I give up with word limits as I never stick to the ones I set anyway! Hope you like it and please review (or flame) =D**

She finds Danielle sat cross-legged on the park bench completely immersed in a novel. Her short blonde hair conceals her face like a curtain and she keeps brushing it back to reveal her mouth that is set in straight line and her brow that is furrowed in concentration and interest. Slowly, her eyes follow the page from left to right then left again as she drinks in each word, oblivious as children race by and to the football kicked by a laughing boy that rolls and stops at her feet.

Above her, an old oak that is in the progress of loosing its leaves stands as a gnarled hand clawing at the sky, each branch a bony finger with the roots acting as crooked feet. A leaf falls then, shuddering as the wind rakes it away; it dances towards the ground like an imp and when it lands in Danielle's hair she looks up in shock, so engrossed in her book that it is almost seems she has forgotten she is in the middle of a park. Ronnie laughs at her daughter from afar, the sound as delightful as the musical chirping of a young blue tit taking flight for the first time.

She watches her for a while, still not quite able to believe that the beautiful girl sat reading a book is hers; is her little Amy that grew inside of her for nine incredible months. Every morning when she has woken up these past few weeks Ronnie has half expected it all to be some deceitful dream and she still feels that swoop of euphoria in her heart every time she sees Danielle is real and every time their skin brushes for just a moment.

But it also reminds her that she barely knows this girl, that the only thing that really connects them is DNA. Even though they have seen each other every day, Ronnie could probably count the number of things she knows about her little girl on one hand. And it kills her inside to know that some other woman knows all the things Ronnie should know, knows all of Danielle's likes and dislikes, all of her mannerisms and who her friends are.

All that connects them is a bond that was forged in blood twenty years ago; simple genes the only reason that the both of them are here in the same park right now eagerly anticipating each other's company even though the conversation is laboured, difficult. But it won't stop Ronnie trying, not ever.

"Hey, Danielle!" Ronnie jogs over and joins her daughter on the bench, fully conscious that her running clothes are damp with sweat and that her hair makes her look as though someone has dragged her through a bush. She runs a hand through it nervously and makes an attempt to conceal the dire state of her attire.

Colour lights up Danielle's face prettily, and she beams at the sight of her Mother, but her eyes are still shadowed with a resentful suspicion that scorches Ronnie to the core; Danielle still seems convinced that Ronnie is somehow lying to her and that she will reject her at any moment like she has before. Guilt washes over her, and Ronnie knows she would do anything to just erase the last few months so that they never existed. She pulls Danielle into a quick hug that she doesn't return. Ronnie winces, still unused to being rejected every time she attempts to be physically close to Danielle.

"Hi, Ronnie. Are you ok?" she asks, still polite, too guarded around her Mum. As if she feels intimidated.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've just been jogging- of course I didn't need to tell you that because it is pretty obvious when I'm still wearing my jogging clothes," she laughs timidly and Danielle smiles at her Mother's uncharacteristic clumsiness with words.

"Do you jog often?" she asks, knowing as little about her mother as Ronnie does about her.

"Yeah, most days. I have done since I was about 18. How about you, do you like any sports?"

"Um, no. Not really," she smiles conspiratorially "I used to make things up when I was in school so I wouldn't have to do P.E,"

Ronnie finds herself grinning at her daughter's innocence and defiance of school rules. She is pleased to be talking about sports, a topic that is both easy and endless. Sometimes conversation was easy between them, like she was talking to a friend who she just hadn't seen for years, but sometimes there would still be awkward pauses between them, but Ronnie has noticed that lately there weren't as many; she hopes it is a small but solid sign of progress in their delicate relationship.

"I always liked P.E. It was the only thing I was ever good at really. I could never do any academic subjects. Roxie hated school too. In fact the only thing Roxie was ever good at in school was pulling all the best looking boys,"

Danielle giggles at her Aunt's expense. She hasn't had much contact with the rest of the Mitchell family yet but Ronnie would like her to get to know her little sister better soon. They had always gotten on anyway; it is easy to be around Roxie, so carefree and welcoming. All Ronnie had ever done to Danielle was treat her with a cold indifference while Roxie had always treated her like a friend.

"Maths was my favourite lesson. I even wanted to be an accountant, but when Mum died…well, things changed,"

Ronnie makes a horrified face, trying to overlook the agony she feel at hearing Danielle call another woman Mum. "Maths? Seriously? I hated Maths. Not that I ever went- I always bunked off with…with a friend,"

She hopes Danielle didn't notice that she almost mentioned Joel; almost mentioned her real Dad; neither of them are ready to bring another person into their relationship yet when it is already strained enough with the two of them.

"What book are you reading? I was watching you from over there. It must a really good book," she asks, eager to change the subject when Danielle looks at her with a curious expression on her face.

"It's brilliant. It's called 'The Memory Keeper's Daughter,"

"What's it about?"

She hesitates before answering, caught off guard that Ronnie has taken an interest in something so trivial.

"A man who…His wife had twins, a little boy and girl. But the girl was born with Down's syndrome and he gave her away and told his wife she was dead. It ruined all their lives. Now a lady who raised Phoebe, that's the little girl, has just told her real mother that Phoebe never died…" her voice trails off into nothing and leaves an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Her heart stinging painfully, Ronnie realises that the situation is so different to their own but the same in many ways. She has spent years blaming her Dad for taking Amy, but she only has herself to blame in the end; she was the one who let her Dad take her daughter, who never went to find her. A tear rolls down Danielle's cheek and Ronnie knows she is thinking about the same thing.

Ronnie carefully reaches out to brush it away with her thumb, her hand lingering against the pale skin before drawing it back.

"I never should have let you go and I'm so sorry for that, darling," her voice becomes thick with sorrow. She places a tentative hand on Danielle's shoulder and this time it is she who makes the first move. Afraid, she leans into Ronnie and neither of them speak as they think about what could have been, the life they could have had together.

"You're here now though," she whispers gently. "You're here now and it doesn't make everything ok, but at least you're here,"

"I'm here and I'm never leaving you again," she kisses the top of Danielle's head and caresses her cheek, loving and maternal. "I promise,"

Danielle nods then, moving away from her mother's touch as if it has suddenly become too much.

"Let's talk about something else, ok?" she suggests timidly.

"If that's what you want," Ronnie agrees, marvelling at how quickly their relationship keeps changing, one moment tender and how it should be and the next moment fraught with heavy and complicated emotions that neither of them were ready to touch upon yet.

"Tell me about yourself, Danielle. Tell me everything,"

Danielle simply stares at her with a faint smile on her face and Ronnie realises how stupid the statement is; it has such a wide scope, a twenty year wide scope, that they would still be here next year.

"Sorry," she laughs. "Um…what's your favourite colour?" it was the first question that sprang to her mind, and a stupid one at that.

"Purple I suppose," she laughs back, probably taken off guard at being asked something that has probably never came up since primary school, and suddenly Ronnie knows that one day everything will be alright as she looks into her daughter's soft eyes that burn with an undeserving love which one day Ronnie will earn.

"What's your favourite animal?" all the things she has longed to know about her daughter come pouring out then, and she continues to ask random questions that Danielle seems more than eager to answer. Some people might consider a favourite colour of no importance, but to Ronnie its significance holds all the weight in the world.

Danielle's personality will shine through in time, but for now Ronnie is content just knowing all the random facts that make her daughter unique.

In the end, it's all the small things that shape a person, it's all the small things that matter.


	4. Letting Go

**I'm not sure where to go with these… I need some ideas, so if anyone has any, please help me! Even word prompts for chapters will be useful. I would do this myself, but my dictionary has done a disappearing act lol. Anyway, I actually started writing this on the ferry to Calais after the 17 and a half hour coach journey, so hopefully looking at the sea made my descriptions better. Although I doubt it. It's a chapter set a few months forward and Danielle starts to come to terms with thing. Anywho, please enjoy!!! And review =D**

Unwanted, rejected, worthless.

Danielle Jones has spent her entire life feeling all of those things.

Each day when she was a little girl she would wake up and think of her birth mother; everyday she would wonder what she looked like and if she ever thought of her too; every day she would search hopelessly for some answers explaining what she could have done when she was just a few hours old to make her mother hate her so much.

No one has ever told her anything. She has known nothing of her other family, her family by blood. Or at least she didn't until that life changing moment when she picked up the phone and called the adoption agency. Her adoptive parents have been everything they should have: patient and loving; a mother and a father. But somehow it was never enough. She had always felt out of place in that house in Telford, strangely detached as if she was there but living someone else's life. Her mind has never been far from her real family, imagining the life that she should have had if her mother hadn't given her away. And she hates herself for it; hates the fact she couldn't let go of a mother that didn't even want her, hates herself for betraying the family who have raised her. Surely your real parents are the ones who raise you, who are always there no matter what?

When has the mother she now knows to be called Ronnie Mitchell been there for her?

Never.

Not when she broke her arm when she was three, not on her first day of school when she had clung to the lamppost begging not to go, not when she first got asked out by a boy and not when her childhood pet cat had died.

Never.

But she is here now.

And somehow that makes all the difference in the world but none at all.

She both hates and adores the woman stood next to her; icy, intimidating and beautiful with her long billowing hair and smooth voice, but warm and tender these past few months with a genuine interest in anything Danielle has said to her, no matter how trivial or how serious. She doesn't know which Ronnie is real yet and she isn't sure she wants to find out. The woman with her now is everything she has ever dreamed of as child, but the months of Ronnie treating her like she was nothing, as insignificant as one of the grains of sand on this beach can't be erased. As much as she is trying, Danielle can't repress the feeling that Ronnie is only humouring her out of a guilty obligation, that as soon she feels she has repented for the last twenty years she will abandon her again.

Just like when she was a baby.

She looks across at Ronnie then who gives her a reassuring smile and Danielle can't help but smile back. Despite all the uncertainty, she still feels a connection with a woman who is still just a stranger to her, a stranger whom she is bound to by the strongest bond on earth.

Ronnie grips her hand as if she knows what Danielle is thinking and is trying to soothe all her fears through the simple gesture. Together they stand with their feet sinking in the sand as the hissing breath of the sea caresses their faces and as the light catches the foam until the vast expanse of water sparkles like an ocean of jewels. She can't see the outline of land at the other side and is presented with an image of her heart, as full but endless as the sea.

"This is where I met you're father, Joel," she closes her eyes and Danielle knows she is delving into her memories, searching for scraps of her youth that have been stolen by the present. "I was thirteen and Roxie and I had come to swim in the sea and I met him over there," she points at some rocks a few hundred metres away. "It was cold and I'd just got out of the sea and I'd left my towel at home. Roxie wouldn't share hers and I guess he must have seen me shivering. He came and gave me his and we started to talk; we understood each other. Talking to Joel gave me a released that I never had at home and after that we started to meet regularly. It was six months later when you were conceived in that same place we met under the stars in summer when we were the only ones left on the beach,"

She can feel the water lapping over her toes, cool but pleasant all at the same time as she drinks in every word Ronnie says. Danielle pictures a thirteen year old girl laughing flirtatiously as in a fit of youthful passion she bears her soul to Joel. She has never seen a picture of her real father, but when she was young she had always imagined him to have soft brown hair and a kind face. Now she doesn't know what to think.

In Ronnie's voice there is a note of longing and fondness, a need to tell Danielle but also the need to remember everything about that night herself. Suddenly, Danielle wants to know everything; wants to know why, when Ronnie seems talk about the way in which she got pregnant with such a loving tenderness, she gave up her little baby. Danielle finally wants the answers after the years of not knowing.

"Why did you let me go?" she asks, twenty years of bitter resentment for the woman who had left her to be raised by someone else tumbling out with the words.

Ronnie looks at her, shame and understanding in her blue eyes as if she has been waiting for Danielle to ask that question for months. "I didn't want to. Even when I found out I was pregnant and I was still just a child myself, I knew I wanted you. When you were born it was the best moment of my life and I didn't ever want to give you up. When he took you it broke my heart,"

"But you didn't come looking when you were older, did you? You forgot about me," tears start to fall down her face now in a surge of hatred the woman she has spent the last few months getting to know.

"Don't say that. Don't you ever say that," Ronnie tells her firmly, willing her to understand and cupping her face with her spare hand. "How could I ever forget the most precious thing in the world? I didn't come looking because I thought you deserved a better mother than me. I thought you would hate me and you have every right to, darling. I've let you down,"

"I forgive you," her anger fades to nothing as she realises that Ronnie has been suffering just as much as her for twenty years; the heartache in her voice mirrors Danielle's. She didn't want to let her go, had always wanted her and had spent her entire life regretting giving her away. And Danielle finally believes her. How could she not when the distress lacing her voice and the anguish behind her eyes are so real?

They were torn apart by the devil and Danielle won't let him tear them apart again.

"I forgive you Ronnie and I'm ready to move if you are," she tries to smile, but lifting the corners of her lips has never seemed to require more energy.

"Thank you for giving me a chance, Danielle. I don't deserve one but I will do everything I can to earn it,"

Danielle nods, dropping Ronnie's hand to reach down and untie the locket at the back of her neck. Ronnie does the same, her hands trembling as the delicate heart falls into her palm.

"I used to hold this and hope that you'd feel me holding it and that you'd come," Danielle tells her, laughing at the childishness of the notion.

"I'd do the same sometimes," Ronnie admits, smiling too at the odd connection she shares with Danielle.

"But you're here now so I won't need it anymore,"

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ronnie asks more to herself, reluctant to let go of the only thing she has had of Danielle for twenty years.

"I'm sure," she says steadily.

"Then so am I," Ronnie gives her locket to Danielle and watches as the chain makes a gold path in her palm.

Holding them out in front of her, she feels the cool metal and what it represents one last time before dropping them; dropping them into the ocean and letting go of the past, of the hatred, of time, of everything. They both watch as the lockets are carried away by the waves, riding them like a surfing board. Danielle feels light all of a sudden, as if a weight has finally been lifted from her heart. She looks up at Ronnie, not knowing what to make of the unfathomable expression on her face. But she does know that this is the beginning for the both of them, that the past is over at last.

They can both move on.

Ronnie slips an arm around Danielle's neck as they head back towards the car, their foot prints making soft indents in the sand and she finds herself grinning. She is with Ronnie, the woman she has longed for her entire life and although they have a lot of catching up to do, Danielle at last feels as though it will work; that everything will be alright.

**I struggled writing Danielle but I hope you liked it!**


	5. Letters to Mum

**Omg, I've had such immense writer's block with these darn things! I've been fiddling around with this one for the past four days, but I'm sick of it now and ready to hurl my laptop out the window so here you have it. Enjoy its suckiness!**

**Oh, I guess it is set after the last one. Previously, they went to Weymouth and now they are at Danielle's first home, Telford. Memory searching and whatever (:**

_They stand in her room amid all the usual stuff a teenager has in her room. Books lay scattered about the shocking purple carpet and the quilt to the bed is in a crumpled heap although it hasn't been slept in for several months. Ronnie supposes that Danielle's father couldn't bring himself to make it; that he had convinced himself his little girl would come back and forget about the selfish birth mother who'd gave her away. But Danielle didn't forget and now they are stood together like two perfect fitting jigsaw pieces in her bedroom while Danielle glances around her room without really seeing it; like she doesn't belong here anymore._

_In a way, she doesn't. And maybe she never did. It might be the place she grew up, but now she's back she has never felt further away from her old life. A part of her feels guilty for abandoning the family that always loved her and raised her, but mostly she just wants to forget it all ever happened. Bile rises in Danielle's throat to even think it, but she can't help thinking that if she could make a wish it would be that she would go back in time just so she could have grown up with her real mum._

_Ronnie watches Danielle in silence, and like Ronnie at the beach in Weymouth, she is remembering all the times she spent in her room, happy times but never quite real. Carefully, she moves some stuff aside and moves to sit on her bed, beginning to kick her feet; they thud against the side of the bed and seem to move in the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat._

_Silence once again forms a wall between them and they both feel a powerful emotion of regret strangling their hearts. In her head, Ronnie is only aware of the sound of blood pumping through her veins, a river turned savage in a storm. She wants to speak and say something to the daughter she has grown to love more than she ever thought possible, but she can't. The words catch in her throat like rain drops on glass. She is painfully aware of Danielle's eyes burning into her and tugging on the fragile strings of hre heart, eager to gain approval but almost nervous that Ronnie might say she doesn't like the bedroom._

"_What do you think?" she asks while trying to keep her voice light. "I know it's a mess, so sorry about that. I thought my Dad might have cleared it up while I was away,"_

"_It's-" again, the words scramble against her throat but can't prise their way up. Suddenly, tears brim in the corner of her eyes and catch on her eyelashes until they grow too heavy and roll gently down her cheeks._

"_Ronnie? Are you ok? What's wrong?" she asks even though she already knows; already knows because she feels the same thing. Danielle darts forward and places a careful arm on her mum's hand. An eternal moment passes._

_Then Danielle brushes away her tears and puts a shy arm around Ronnie's neck while she begins to cry harder and starts to sob into her shoulder. It is almost too much, almost too like a dream, being here in Danielle's, her little baby Amy's, bedroom._

_She's missed so much; she's missed twenty years in fact._

_But somehow through some miracle she is with her daughter now._

_And it may be almost too much, but right now it's all that matters._

**Letter 1**

Dear Mummy,

Last week I found out that I had more than one mummy and it confused me because I thought little girls could only have one mummy. My mummy here told me that you're my real mummy and that you gave me away because you were only a little girl when I was given to you by the baby man. She gave me a pretty necklace that belonged to you and I liked the picture. You look like a pretty princess and I want to look like one too when I grow up.

It's my eight birthday soon and I asked for a scooter and a princess table, but my real mummy said I could only have one. Please will you come to my birthday party and bring me the mirror? All my best friends and my boyfriend Timmy are coming and I want you to come too because my best friend Laila said that once her mummy was ill and missed her party so she got real upset. I don't want you to get upset, mummy. I asked my real mummy here if it was ok and she said it was, but she said you might be busy, so last night I made a wish on that pretty necklace that you wouldn't be busy and that you'd come to my party.

If you are busy, please will you come and visit me anyway because it would be cool to have two mums. I'll save you a special piece of my cake. Me and Betsie wouldn't want you to feel upset, so we will show you around. I don't like my real mummy being in my bedroom very much, but i'll let you look because if you're going to be my second mummy then you need to see my bedroom so you know where things go. I'll even show you the special place I hide the pretty necklace so Gareth doesn't steal it, but you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Even my real mummy here doesn't know where it is because she acts all weird every time I bring it up, like the same look she gets whenever I say I don't like my brother Gareth as if it's a bad thing.

The party is next week in my back garden. Please please please come, mummy. I really want to meet you and give you a lot of hugs to make up for hugging my mummy here more times than you.

Love from Danielle Jones and Betsie the blue bear.

_Slowly, her tears begin to dry up into nothing as Danielle comforts her. Ronnie is amazed and feels her heart swell to a thousand times its normal size; it is the first time that Danielle has shown any sign that Ronnie is anything more than a stranger who she is forced to have contact with. They have hugged before, but when it has always felt right for Ronnie it has always felt so wrong for Danielle._

_But not anymore._

_It feels perfect, it makes her feel for the first time that she belongs somewhere. She has always had a home to go, but it has never felt like home. Now that doesn't even seem to matter anymore because she has a home now and for the first time Danielle has realised that Ronnie is truly sorry and that she will never leave; Danielle knows now that she will always have a home with Ronnie if she wants it._

"_My room isn't that bad is it?" Danielle laughs, suddenly feeling more confident around her real mother than she has ever felt around her before. She was wrong about Ronnie, so wrong; she isn't the ice queen everyone thinks, she was just bitter and never quite complete because of the missing fragment of her heart. But now she has that back everything has fallen into place and the warm, maternal and gentle person she was when she was fourteen is back again._

_There are still things to sort out, a hell of a lot of things. But Danielle doesn't feel afraid to talk about them anymore and her nervous disposition has somehow evaporated in the room._

"_No, no of course not," Ronnie gives her a shaky laugh back. "Although i'm not sure I approve of that!"_

_Danielle follows her gaze and until her eyes settle on a poster of an almost-naked Johnny Depp that she has had since she was 15._

"_Well, I don't care. It's not coming down. He was my first true love," she gushes, clutching her heart in a mock show of love. "I even called one of my gerbils Mr Depp. The other was called Lucifer," she manages to say through a fit of giggles and Ronnie starts to laugh too, raising her eyebrows in question._

"_That was when my brother said he was going to be a devil worshiper because my parents were devout Christians and I think he wanted to annoy them,"_

"_Is he still a devil worshipper?"_

"_Nope," she grins. "He dropped that when Lucifer killed Mr Depp; I think it became too real for him then,"_

_For a while, Danielle continues to babble and Ronnie is drinking in each word without really listening to what she is saying, instead carefully observing Danielle's gentle mannerisms and the peculiar way in which she constantly hitches up her skin tight jeans and elongates words that end in the letter 's'._

Twenty years_, she thinks again with an aching pain that almost blinds her._

_But now Ronnie feels like any other mother in the world as she sits on the floor and jokes with her daughter. If any outsider was asked, they wouldn't know; wouldn't be able to guess that there was so much lost time and so many unanswered questions between them._

_It is like they have been together all their lives._

_For both of them, it feels so right._

**Letter 2**

Dear Mummy,

Where are you? I know I didn't send my letter last time but I wished you to me. Didn't you hear me? Tonight I'm gonna wish even harder because I really want to meet you, mummy. I've never seen you but when I look at the photo in the pretty necklace I know I'd love you and that you'd be a great second mummy. Please come and visit, even if it's only for a little while because I really need a hug right now.

I'm in year 5 now and it's a really scary year because the lessons are getting real hard now. Except Maths. I like maths because it's easy and I get numbers a lot. My real mummy here says I will change my mind, but I don't think so. All I want to do when I grow older is be an accountant. The girls at school think I'm weird because I carry a bear around. I told you about Betsie the blue bear, but I lost her at the park. I miss her a real lot, but I wished her back to me with the pretty necklace and I know that one day she'll turn up just like you will because I wished real hard and well. My bear is called Percy the pink pussy cat now. My best friend Laila said that wishes never come true, but I don't believe her because last year when I wished for a scooter and that princess mirror I got both of them.

Today at school one of the girls pushed me over and it hurt real bad because I grazed my knee. I tried to stop, but I couldn't help it and when I started to cry they laughed at me. Daddy never has time to listen because he's too busy with work and I tried to tell my mummy here, but she said she didn't have time because Gareth is very sick. He has men-in-ji-tus. Or something like that. We haven't learned how to spell that word yet in school. So while I was wishing you to me I wrote this letter to ask you to come and give me a cuddle because no one else is and it isn't fair and that what mummies are meant to do, even second mummies.

Love from Danielle Jones and Percy the Pink Pussy Cat.

_They are in silence now, although it is the comfortable silence of two people who are at perfect ease with each other. Danielle is lost in thoughts of the future and all the things she can do with her mum. There's so much she wants to say, so much she needs to ask Ronnie but right now she isn't sure where to start and is simply content to be with her. Sunlight beams forth through the curtains and bathes Ronnie's hair in light so that it almost looks gold. Her cheek bones are high, her eyes sharp and glittering just like her own. She vaguely remembers sitting on her bed when she was just a little girl and looking at the locket with Ronnie's picture in and thinking how beautiful and perfect she was; and she still is perfect; the mother she always dreamed of._

_It has been hard convincing herself that Ronnie is here to stay, but she has finally managed it. Danielle knows in order to move forward she has to try and stop living in the past. Her eyes turn to Ronnie then. She is sat on the carpet with her legs crossed and one hand lying vacantly in her lap; the other is at her neck, caressing her skin and searching for something that isn't there anymore. Danielle supposes it must be the necklace. Although Ronnie herself hasn't told her this, she imagines that it is something Ronnie does every time she is lost in deep thought._

_She tries to gauge what she might be feeling, but as usual her mother gives away nothing. The expression on her face is contented but dark at the same time and Danielle wishes she could see what was running through her mother's mind. She almost asks her, but quickly withdraws the words, almost afraid to shatter the peaceful quiet._

_As quickly as it had come, the feeling that she has never been parted from her mother leaves her like a bird taking flight from a precarious height. Ronnie must sense it too, because she looks at Danielle suddenly with both a fear and a love that burn._

"_There's still so much we both don't know about each other, isn't there? I think that's the hardest thing about all of this: the not knowing," Ronnie says, her voice mirroring Danielle's thoughts exactly. As she speaks in her quiet but commanding way, she leans back on her hands and shuts her eyes, letting her blonde hair billow back so it almost touched the floor._

_Danielle doesn't answer, instead climbing down from the bed to sit beside Ronnie. She tucks her knees tightly against her chest and then, slowly, carefully, she rests her head on Ronnie's shoulder, unaware when she trembles beneath her touch, far too engrossed in focusing her hate on the man who is responsible for all of this._

_It shouldn't be like this._

_So easy one moment then so painful the next._

_Danielle had known it would take time, but she never expected it would take this long._

_And it will take even more time; maybe a lifetime._

_But they will get there is the end._

_For now Danielle supposes this is enough._

_It will have to be enough._

_So she doesn't voice her fears, instead allowing her head to press against her mother like it did twenty years ago as they both think of the past, present and future; as they both sit frozen in a perfect photograph image._

**Letter 3**

Dear 'mum',

There are so many questions I want to ask you, but I don't think I want to know the answers. When I was a little girl I didn't really understand what it meant to be adopted, but I do now. I don't care why you gave me up; I don't care if you were a younger year than I am now. You were still my mum and mums should love and care for their baby no matter what. But you didn't care about me did you? You didn't want me. You abandoned me without any thought and left me to suffer without my real family beside me. I need you now more than ever and even though I've cried for you so many times you still haven't come. I don't understand; I don't get what I did when I was just a few hours old to make you hate me so much. How could you have left me to struggle through life alone?

I don't know why you haven't come yet and I don't care anymore. I don't want to see you, not now, not ever. I_ hate_ you. You're not my mum and don't you ever think you have the right to call yourself that, because my real mum, the mum who has always been there, is here with me now. Where the hell are you?

But I'm losing her now too. She's got cancer and every time I go and visit it gets harder because she won't even look me in the eye anymore because she's so ashamed and afraid. And it isn't goddamn fair. I wish it was you, mum, in that hospital bed dying instead of her. Why is it me that has to face losing another mum? It kills me when I go and see her and watch her broken movements, see the bones in her gaunt face and I brush the clumps of hair from her pillow. She was strong at first, but now it's like she's forgotten she has a life outside of the hospital and I just want to yell at her that she has to get better because inside I'm still a little girl who needs her mum to take care of her. But I never do yell because it would be selfish when it's her who's dying and not me, even if it feels that way sometimes. It's your fault I'm like this though.

I think she's dying to punish me; I think maybe God has given her cancer to make me pay for wishing that you were here. My mum is abandoning me now just like you did. Is there something wrong with me? Is that why you got rid of me? Is that why me real mum is dying? I've stopped wishing for you to come now and I think I'm going to throw the locket away. I wish I didn't know, I wish I could go back to the life I had before I found out about you because I've wasted so many years longing for a life I will never have. You didn't want me then and you won't want me now.

I don't ever want to see you, mum. I just want my true mother back.

Don't ever come looking for me,

From Danielle Jones.

"_For years I imagined meeting you, but if someone had told me that I would be sat here now holding you on the bedroom floor then I would have laughed in their face," Ronnie speaks suddenly and places a tender hand on her daughter's cheek, almost as if she is checking she is still real and not some illusion._

_The sun has gone now. Unforgiving and uncaring, tourmaline clouds have swaggered across the sky and cruelly smothered the light. The fingers of a slow breeze that will soon turn to a roaring storm begin to drum against the window pain, oddly comforting as it makes the moment between Danielle and Ronnie more real. Ronnie thinks back to the night Danielle was born, the way the rain had pounded against the hood of her coat like an army of stones and since that night she has always hated the rain because it was in the rain that she last held baby Amy; last held her before the smiling nurses with pitying glances had rushed to her and snatched away her newborn daughter._

_But she doesn't hate the rain now; maybe they both need a little fall of rain to wash away some of the pain of the last twenty years._

"_The world's gone mad hasn't it?" Danielle says. A wide grin spreads across Ronnie's face because in that instant Danielle had sounded exactly like Roxie. "I still keep expecting to wake up and hear Gareth barging into my room or to be at the Slater's and peering around the curtains to watch you jog in the mornings,"_

"_Does it feel weird? Being back here?" Ronnie asks, not really needing Danielle to answer. From the moment they pulled up in the car she could sense the change in her daughter: she saw the way her body tensed up as if in an electric shock, how her hand had fumbled with the key in the lock; she had sensed that every force inside Danielle made her recoil from the home which isn't really, or has even been, her home anymore._

_She nods, moving her head from Ronnie's shoulder, her short hair sticking up with static on one side and presenting Ronnie with the delirious urge to burst into a fit of laughter. "Yeah, I guess. I didn't ever think that I'd want to come back here after I found you. But I think I needed to come here one last time. And I think it's about time I face my Dad- if I know him he'll have gone mad with worry by now,"_

_Ronnie smiles at Danielle's sardonic look, but the flame of jealousy flickers wildly inside her stomach; it just feels so unfair that Danielle should worry about what her Dad might think when he isn't even related by blood. Selfishly, she wants to take Danielle away from Telford and even Walford so she never has to share her little girl with anyone. But in the end they would both resent that. She shakes the feeling away, knowing that if anyone is to blame it is her bastard of a father._

_Getting up, Danielle walks over to the edge of her bed, a curious expression leaping into her eyes and ensnaring her lips that are a soft shade of pink. "I used to write you letters until I was 19 and I decided to contact the adoption agency. I never sent them because I didn't know where you were, but I was just a kid and I always imagined that with each word I wrote my pen would somehow engrave them into your mind too. I wished for you as well every night. I wished you would come and visit me,"_

"_Can I read them?" Ronnie asks, hauling herself up from the carpet and following Danielle to lay her hand on her arm._

_She hesitates, moving away from Ronnie's touch, every nerve in her body alert and nervous. "I don't want them to spoil things,"_

"_They won't," Ronnie assures her, giving her hand a quick squeeze. For Danielle they represent the years of longing and sometimes the bitterness she felt towards Ronnie, but mainly the plain love she felt for a complete stranger who despite everything she felt would know her better than anyone._

_Ronnie hardly cares what it written in them. She just wants to see her little girl's hand writing, to compare it with her own and trace her writing with her fingers. For Ronnie they represent a fragment of the childhood she should have been a part of._

_Mechanically, still hesitantly, Danielle bends down and withdraws a battered box from beneath her bed. Dust has settled on the top and Ronnie realises that the box is just another thing full of forgotten memories that got lost in the dark._

_She places both hands around the box and tugs it from Danielle who seems reluctant to give Ronnie the piece of her past that she has hidden for so long. In that way, they are more alike than either of them will ever understand. Both of them have kept their deepest hopes, regrets and emotions drowned under the ocean in their hearts. As she takes the box, she wonders how many more things are hidden under her heart's troubled surface and hopes that one day Danielle will reveal them to her._

_Then she prises off the lid to find a stack of paper with faded words that mean so little but so much. It's funny how scrawled words on old paper can hold so much power._

_She prises off the lid, and opens the door to the past._

_And then she starts to read as Danielle trembles by her side._

**Letter 4**

Dear Mum,

I need to find you, to meet you. I'm so afraid that you won't like me, but I know that if I don't meet you then I will never be able to move on with my life. It was my mum's funeral today, but for some reason all I could think of was you. In my heart I know there's always been something missing and now mum's death has made me realise that it was you. Eventually, even when I hated you, I knew that I had to meet you one day and now my mum is gone I won't feel guilty about wanting to know you anymore.

I think dad died along with mum. Gareth has joined the navy and dad doesn't even seem to know I'm there anymore. It's like his soul has departed and left an empty shell walking around. He won't even know if I go, he won't even care. So I'm determined to find you and maybe even give you all these letters.

I'm so terrified won't like me- that you'll reject me like you did when I was a baby. Please don't mum, please don't leave me again. I was fooling myself before when I said I didn't need you. Right now, I need my mum more than ever. Once I wrote to you asking for you to come and give me a hug, but you never did come. Can I have a hug now? I really need one. I know it's childish because if you didn't want me then why would you want me now? But all the same I can't help imagining the woman from the locket, the perfect stranger I used to want to be just like, who I imagined was a princess; I can't stop myself from picturing an emotional reunion where you recognise me straight away and take me in your arms and promise that nothing will take me from you again.

But even if that doesn't happen it's ok. I just want to get to know you, mum. But most off all I just need a hug.

Love from your daughter, Danielle Jones.

_The parchment almost feels alive in her hands, burning her with its words and tugging on her heartstrings until they snap. She inhales each word, breathing them and holding the slightly yellowed paper that is crinkled like skin when you get out of the bath firmly between her hands. Part of her doesn't want to read anymore because it is just too much to know that her daughter needed her and she wasn't there, but she can't stop herself reading._

_Her eyes scan each page carefully and she traces each word with her finger, painfully aware that Danielle is watching her every move as her eyes linger far longer than they should on each letter._

_Then she starts to cry for the second time that day, and once she starts she can't stop. This time Danielle doesn't come to her, but wraps her arms protectively around her waist and tries to stop her own tears from falling. Relentless, they trek down her cheeks and disappear pointlessly into the carpet. She hardly knows what to, what to say to make it alright. Because in some ways she knows it will never be alright._

_She has simply missed too much._

_She hasn't been there when another mother, the person in the letters Danielle refers to as her real mother has._

_A scream of rage and sorrow aimed mainly at her father claws its way up her throat but never quite makes it out because she doesn't deserved to feel sorry for herself; it is Danielle that has suffered the most, not her. The letters have dragged her way from the dream and back to reality; she wants to tear them, but she knows that it would be pointless because Danielle has got her wish: the words will be engraved on her mind forever._

_And still she is painfully aware of Danielle's eyes burrowing into her as if daring her to say something, to challenge the letters._

"_Danielle, I don't- I don't know what to- I'm so sorry- don't change a- let's just," she somehow manages to string a few words together through her tears._

"_You don't have to say anything," Danielle steps forward, closing the gap between them. "They don't mean a thing to me anymore. Because you're here so I don't need to write letters or hold on to stupid lockets now. I was just worried that the one I wrote when mum was dying might make you hate me," she tells, deciding to be honest with Ronnie._

_Her arms fall to her side, limp. Ronnie takes her hands in her hers and draws her into a bone breaking hug. "I could never hate you. I don't care what you say, you know- You're stuck with me now and you can have as many hugs as you want, sweetheart."_

_Some of the tears have dried up now and the terrible dryness scorching in her throat has gone. She holds Danielle close, not wanting to let her go ever again but the moment has to end sooner or later. All too soon, they pull apart._

"_Will you come to my birthday party this year?" Danielle asks timidly, making her Ronnie feel at ease again. She seems to have mastered a gentle way with people that Ronnie has never had._

"_Of course. I'm gonna throw you the birthday party of the century!"_

_A devious little grin flits across Danielle's face then._

"_Good, because you owe me twenty years of birthday presents!"_

_And then they both burst into a fit of uncontrollable but slightly uncalled for laughter until their stomachs hurt._

_Ronnie hands back the letters, relieved to have the still burning paper away from her and Danielle takes them and shoves them unceremoniously back into the box. Then she shuts the box and shuts of the lid on the past for good because for now there is no need to talk about things that they can never get back and they can both concentrate on the present and let their memories become a distant voice._

**This is one of the worst things I have ever wrote, and that's saying something xD I couldn't remember if she had a brother or his name, so sorry I got that wrong! I hope I created a convincing voice for Danielle as she grew up. (Who am I kidding? I know I didn't). Please review because it took me forever and make sure you be brutally honest. I know this was terrible!**


End file.
